


Satellites Colliding

by Tarlan



Category: A Shot in the Face (2001)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-09
Updated: 2003-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jerry goes on his road trip after the robbery...and meets the robber who shot him in the face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satellites Colliding

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for Lynda

Until I started on this road trip I never realized what a big country I lived in. Oh, I had seen plenty of it on the TV but it wasn't quite the same as being out there. We even found that mountain and stopped for a while to live as hermits until the lack of cable TV made us rejoin the human race. Still, I'm sure grandfather won't be spinning in his grave over that.

Eventually, we pulled over in Banff and stood there wondering when we left Canada and arrived in Japan. It seemed that every store sign was made up of those squiggly characters that are meaningless to me.

"We could learn Japanese," exclaimed Erin, and then she went off into one of her theories -- this time about the Japanese -- but I no longer found them even remotely fascinating.

"Or we could just read the English signs below," I pointed out.

We found a small motel situated at the opposite end of the main street from the Banff Springs Hotel; checked in and then checked right back out again. After all, what was the point of having grandfather's money and not enjoying the view? And what a view it was.

Two hours later we were halfway up Sulphur Mountain...and that's when I saw him. Least, I saw someone who looked familiar in a gut clenching sort of way. He disappeared too fast, and I convinced myself that he was just some innocent who shared a strong resemblance to the man who had shot me in the face almost five months back.

"Couldn't be. That jerk must still be in prison."

I thought about her words. "Yeah," I said, and then recalled Erin's strange theory about satellite's revolving around each other, and that eventually some would collide. That's how it seemed with the man who had shot me in the face. Until that day I had never even seen him before and then, suddenly, there he was robbing my local store and pointing a gun in my face. That should have been it. Our satellites had collided and we should have bounced out of orbit in different directions, never to meet again. That didn't happen though, for who should prove Erin's other theory about the number of cars who would pass by in indignation when she flipped them the bird before one stopped.

I recognized his terrible bubble-cut hairstyle as Erin climbed in beside him, and that filled me with anger and resentment, though I didn't really know why. It wasn't as if I had a claim on Erin... or on him, come to think of it. Though, bad haircut or not, he had a good looking face, and the greenest eyes I'd ever seen before, with these long dark lashes that made him look coy... like a girl.

I blinked, wondering where those thoughts had come from, and feeling strangely guilty as I thought of that morning all those months back when I woke up to find him stretched out beside me on the bed. My morning erection went diamond hard in seconds but then the thought of any person in my bed could have done that. I'd not been successful with my single chat up line for quite a few months before Erin showed up, and not at all since getting shot in the face.

Erin wasn't interested in having sex with me after that first mercy fuck but she was easy to be around and it was great to have someone to travel with. Of course, it would have been better if she had wanted sex every day too, and after a dry spell of five months, with only my good right hand for daily companionship, I was ready to jump anyone.

"Anyone in a skirt," I added aloud through gritted teeth. Fortunately, Erin had already run off to chase some chipmunks but the two old ladies walking close by gave me a wide berth from there on in.

Ahead was the top of the mountain, and I could see plenty of seats set out for those staggering along in the thin air. I managed to reach one and sank down on it gratefully, only to feel another body pushing up too close for comfort considering the seat was eight feet long and empty apart from the two of us. I turned to give this person my hardest psycho stare, and met shocked green eyes as he recognized me.

"You--You--I shot you in the face!" He exclaimed, and then he frowned and his voice lowered. "Where's my money?"

"It's not your money, it's my money."

"We agreed... all of us... that you'd go into the bank and take out all the money and give it to me or I'd shoot you in the fucking face."

"You shot me in the fucking face, you moron."

He seemed a little taken aback at that. "So... that means I don't get the money?"

"Right."

"What if I threaten to shoot you in the fucking leg this time?"

"Go ahead. You already shot me in the fucking face so what does a leg matter."

"I could shoot you in the arm."

"Big deal."

"How about if I threaten to shoot *her* in the fucking face?" He indicated towards Erin who had somehow managed to ingratiate herself with a group of virile-looking, male tourists.

"You look better without the--the hair," I made sort of curly bubble motions with my fingers, and he reached up to touch the short mahogany strands. The diversion worked as his attention left Erin and came back to me.

"In prison they said I looked like a girl."

He frowned again as if mulling over some inner thought. His fingers were still combing through his hair and I had a sudden strong urge to find out if those strands were as soft as they looked. I felt a warning flush as my dick perked up to take notice of the body still pressed against me in an all too familiar way. It didn't help that I had started to imagine us seated here naked flesh to naked flesh with my hands in his hair and my tongue pushing between his bowed lips to stake a claim.

I pulled back sharpish from the direction of those thoughts. Damn, but I needed to get laid if I was fantasizing about guys... though I didn't feel as much as a stir of excitement on looking at the men surrounding Erin. Or maybe it was Erin who turned me off?

"Look... Ben, isn't it?"

"You know my name?"

"Hard to forget the name of the man who shot me in the fucking face." I retorted angrily. Was he that stupid? I sighed. "They used your name in the court records."

"Hey! That's right, and your name is Jerry... so that makes us Ben and Jerry." He nudged me excitedly. "You get it? Ben and Jerry... the ice-cream--"

"You're right." I said in surprise. I hadn't noticed the connection before but it was pretty damn good. Ben and Jerry's was my favorite ice-cream. Silently, I wondered if they sold it in one of those Japanese tourist stores back down the mountain.

"So, Jerry..." Ben placed his arm around the back of the seat, touching my shoulder lightly. "Wouldn't mind doing a little flag waving on your hill... you know?"

"You what?"

"A little deer hunting in your woods... a little sparring in your dojo..."

"You want to sleep with me?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

Hell! Suddenly I was so hard at even the thought of having a hand on my dick that wasn't my own, that it didn't matter that he was a guy.

"Then why are we still sitting here. I've got a hotel room."

-ooOOoo-

I don't recall Erin ever coming back to the room we shared but all her belongings had gone by the time I woke up the next day, with Ben still sprawled across the bed beside me.

Okay, so it wasn't the greatest sex ever, and we spent the first half of the night wanting the other one to do the touching yet unwilling to do any in return. Still, desperation won out in the end and we both reluctantly agreed to grab the other's dick on a count of three.

After that it got easier, and by the time he'd brought me off I'd forgotten exactly what I had in hand--least until I felt that familiar warm, wetness coating my fingers and then remembered it wasn't my own.

But, damn, it had felt good just to have someone else's hand doing the work.

I leaned up on one elbow and looked at him. REALLY looked at him, lying there with the sheet bunched round his knees and the rest of him naked and glistening with come and sweat. His hair was in disarray, and his lips looked swollen and bruised. Damn! If I looked even half a well fucked as him then maybe it had been great sex after all as I was just being biased because I didn't get to stick my dick in some orifice.

Those lips though... all soft and swollen with the Cupid's bow... Hell! What am I thinking? The bastard shot me in the fucking face... Fucking face... wonder what my dick would look like fucking his face?

Grandfather will be spinning in his grave, but at least he cannot say I've not experienced every part of life.

-ooOOoo-

It's been a year since Erin went her way and I went mine, and the spending has tailed off considerably, probably because I don't need all those little extras a girl just has to have... and neither does Ben. He's happy enough with a cheeseburger, soda and fries, and a few beers at whatever bar is within staggering distance.

He's a great companion on this road trek. He has his theories like Erin but not the desperate need to prove them at every opportunity... and he doesn't mind if I belch loudly. I don't feel any apathy now... and he doesn't need that Anger Management tape, so we chucked that out the car somewhere in Quebec.

He's cute and funny... and his ass is tighter than a virgin's pussy, so I haven't needed my own hand on my dick for almost a year now, except to pee.

All this talk of his ass is getting me hot and hard and I stare across the table as he bites into a greasy double cheeseburger at this roadside diner. The grease has dribbled down his chin, and his lips are glistening. He licks them, and the sight sends another strong message into my dick, making it stand to attention. He freezes, with the burger raised halfway to those greased lips, and grins.

"You wanna do some push-ups in my gym?"

I grin, my dick already aching at the thought.

Grabbing all the food from the table, we head for the door. The latest in our series of motel rooms, which stretch across the length of Canada, is just thirty feet away, and I'm pleased to see he's naked by the time we reach the bed.

My last clear thought as I line up my dick with the target sends a bubble of laughter through me as I cry out, "Brace yourself... satellites colliding."

THE END

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

06 August 2003


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